"She was rather pretty," Mary said; "but her face was thin and pale, and
her eyes, she guessed, were black."
It was not Ethie, then--Richard had never believed it was--but he felt
sorry that she was gone, whoever she might be, and Clifton was not so
pleasant to him now as it had been at first. He was much better, and had
been once to the chapel, when up the three flights of stairs Perry came
and along the hall till he stopped at Room No. 102. There was a telegram
for Richard, who took it with trembling hands and read it with a blur
before his eyes and something at his heart like a blow, but which was
born of a sudden hope that, after many days and months and years of
waiting, God had deigned to be merciful. But only for a brief moment did
this hope buoy him up. It could not be, he said; and yet, as he made his
hasty preparations for his journey, he found the possibility constantly
recurring to his mind, while the nearer he came to Davenport the more
probable it seemed, and the more impatient he grew at every little
delay. There were several upon the road, and once, only fifty miles from
home, there was a detention of four hours. But the long train moved at
last, and just as the sun was setting the cars stopped in the Davenport
depot, and as the passengers alighted the loungers whispered to each
other, "Governor Markham has come home."